[ oh god that's — that's just a silly way to start, isn't it. ]
I hope you're well.
[ wow, that's also a profoundly stupid thing to say. nice. ]
Someone else from our approximate point in spacetime has appeared.
[ since they're not 100% sure they're same-universe homies. whatever. he sort of cocked up their second impression, so being open and sharing the information seems... wise, even if his communication skills have gone to pot in the past year. ]
[ listen, he's losing his damn mind... so be glad he can even make terrible excuses. ]
Not quite. But I'd like the cosmos to note that I wouldn't be opposed. It'd be nice to see my partner again before I'm eaten by multiversal creepy crawlies.
[ just... thinking back to daisy trying to embarrass him, suggesting their cover be that they used to date. or still date? whatever. he feels a bit flustered by the whole thing and is rather grateful this is happening over text. why the hell did he become the centre of everyone's fake backstories when he's the worst, huh?
jemma would say oh, fitz, if she were here. he can nearly hear it. ]
Alrighty then, all business it is, Doctor. Daisy Johnson. Female, late twenties. Last remembers events that occurred in 2017, six months before the date I last recall. I know her from the engineering and tech circuit. Not sure what job she's in now. IT something or other. We sort of used to have a thing.
[ why the hell is he! the SHIELD agent! who has to talk! to everyone! ]
[ there's a little while before another response comes through, time spent thinking. is this serving them? their conversation left it fairly undeniable that they've each got something to hide - and he's not trying to undersell the worth of engineers and biologists, but he somehow doubts they're going to find the connection by comparing degrees.
so. ]
If I told you that the last thing I remember before waking up on that bus was standing on a space ship with Tony Stark and Spiderman and trying not to crash into an alien planet, would you have anything new to tell me?
[ jesus christ, that's — tony stark is a SHIELD consultant or was, before they went underground. the new SHIELD doesn't go near spider-man, given his vague association with the avengers. that's fury's area. but if strange knows them, is strange an... avenger? is he inhuman? he'd have to be unregistered, at odds with stark's stance. and to be there, on the frontlines, that's — wow.
he wants to say, thank god or maybe aliens, amiright? but he keeps the neural tech in check, messaging bobbi instead. is it okay for him to talk? he'd love to give up on his horrible mess of lies and half-truths. and he'd prefer to speak openly with stephen, who might be able to help him with things beyond their most recent displacement. ]
I could walk and talk. Maybe think of a few new things to add.
[ they're hackable now, so he won't on here. how much he reveals ultimately depends on bobbi, as well as his calls on-the-spot. ]
[ a slight delay as he waits for the okay from bobbi, and then — ]
Free. Meet by the dining area and then head out.
[ out of the safehouse, that is. better not to do this where everyone's on top of each other. he's already there, anyway, perched on the edge of a table, steadying himself before he discusses classified information. ]
[ alright. to say this is something he's looking forward to is a far cry from the current reality, but needs must. he's never really had to explain what he had before, at least not without the aid of example. explaining now it's gone is going to be -
it's going to be what it is. at least he's not the only one with explaining to do.
maybe five minutes later, he rounds the corner to the dining area. looking about as much of a mess as the rest of them, face peppered with healing cuts and set in a neutral mask. ]
[ fitz looks decent, unharmed beyond the slim nicks here and there, largely covered by his slightly too big hand-me-downs. he was lucky — and trained for it, he supposes, twice. despite his general skittishness, his features are arranged into a near calm. he can be professional, even if he's not firing on all cylinders.
except stephen's opener startles a laugh out him. god, what a dad joke. coulson would dig it. ]
You know me. [ well. he eases his weight forward to stand fully, hands slipping into his pockets 'cause they'll give him away otherwise. ] Can't get enough of the dried insects.
[ but they're in motion, burning his nervous energy on their way out of the building. walking was a good shout. ]
[ a slight upward tick of the mouth at the breaking of the tension, but he falls into step and they're off. out into the day, warned not to be seen on their way out of the safehouse - as if that much isn't common sense. ]
I'm sorry to have been so blunt. But it seemed best to get it out of the way. We don't have a lot of time for beating around the bush.
[ still, he can acknowledge that he did somewhat pull the carpet out from under them ]
[ despite deciding this is a Hands-in-Pockets Spy Affair, he ends up lifting a hand to gesture between them. ]
No, you — it was the right call.
[ maybe, he doesn't actually know, but sure. ]
I suppose I should say I'm [ a beat of uncertainty. he glances at stephen. ] an Agent of SHIELD. Afraid I left the badge in the other universe. [ then, lightly. ] And I have drawn up the prints for a jet, so. Aerospace wasn't totally off-base.
[ a joking (*not joking) defense of his lie spaghetti, thanks. ]
Chatty bastard. [ more irritated than upset. ] I'll have you know it's protocol to negotiate openly with aliens, and SHIELD has a strong relationship with Asgard. [ a beat. ] With most Asgardians.
Mystic Arts. [ he repeats, a little skepticism creeping into his tone despite himself. mystic probably isn't the right word for whatever Steven does, scientifically speaking, but sure, why the hell not? ]
You had powers before you came here, then?
[ they all have powers now, of course, that Fitz suspects were mined from other individuals. ]
Yeah, me too. [ re: mystic arts. he's been you, fitz. he won't begrudge the skecticism. ] And yes. I could access interdimensional energy and form it into spells. I could also manipulate dimensions, travel between them freely, and control time.
[ so that's a thing. another thing, one that he hasn't quite understood yet - ] Before?
[ spells, he says. dr strange is a wizard. isn't that just cracking. the phrase "interdimensional energy" soothes him, at least, and provides fodder for further questions. later. ]
Could've used your help a few times.
[ it's meant to be quippy, but he fails to muster the positive energy. ]
I'm sure you've noticed. [ it's a compliment. strange is a clever man, though perhaps he lacks the intimate relationships to explore this topic freely, at present. with bobbi and daisy here, fitz can discuss almost anything. ] I know for a fact that I'm not inhuman or powered. Or I wasn't. I checked. Now — [ he lifts his hands and shrugs his shoulders. ] — I've some kind of spacetime manipulation ability, I reckon.
Fitz belatedly stops and backtracks, facing Stephen. He has the decency to look sheepish for slipping in that detail, at least, bring a hand to scratch at his neck. ]
Like, portals — just small ones, though. [ to illustrate, he makes an O with his hand. ] Seems to function like miniature wormholes, with an entry and exit portal, but it's difficult to test.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
ic july 4 / @leo.fitz
I mean hi. It's Fitz from the, y'know.
[ oh god that's — that's just a silly way to start, isn't it. ]
I hope you're well.
[ wow, that's also a profoundly stupid thing to say. nice. ]
Someone else from our approximate point in spacetime has appeared.
[ since they're not 100% sure they're same-universe homies. whatever. he sort of cocked up their second impression, so being open and sharing the information seems... wise, even if his communication skills have gone to pot in the past year. ]
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Yeah?
[ that's it. that's the whole answer. ]
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Yeah.
It's too many of us to be a coincidence.
[ us. ]
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[ he hopes the skepticism is palpable, but also, regardless of where from it sounds like Fitz knows them. and that sure is one coincidence too many. ]
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Not quite.
But I'd like the cosmos to note that I wouldn't be opposed. It'd be nice to see my partner again before I'm eaten by multiversal creepy crawlies.
[ keeping it topical. this universe sucks. ]
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As much as I love playing vessel to petitions to the void of space, a little more information might not go amiss. Name? Job? Shoe size?
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jemma would say oh, fitz, if she were here. he can nearly hear it. ]
Alrighty then, all business it is, Doctor.
Daisy Johnson. Female, late twenties. Last remembers events that occurred in 2017, six months before the date I last recall. I know her from the engineering and tech circuit. Not sure what job she's in now. IT something or other.
We sort of used to have a thing.
[ why the hell is he! the SHIELD agent! who has to talk! to everyone! ]
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so. ]
If I told you that the last thing I remember before waking up on that bus was standing on a space ship with Tony Stark and Spiderman and trying not to crash into an alien planet, would you have anything new to tell me?
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he wants to say, thank god or maybe aliens, amiright? but he keeps the neural tech in check, messaging bobbi instead. is it okay for him to talk? he'd love to give up on his horrible mess of lies and half-truths. and he'd prefer to speak openly with stephen, who might be able to help him with things beyond their most recent displacement. ]
I could walk and talk. Maybe think of a few new things to add.
[ they're hackable now, so he won't on here. how much he reveals ultimately depends on bobbi, as well as his calls on-the-spot. ]
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I could do with a walk. Free?
[ best get this show on the road, hadn't we? ]
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Free. Meet by the dining area and then head out.
[ out of the safehouse, that is. better not to do this where everyone's on top of each other. he's already there, anyway, perched on the edge of a table, steadying himself before he discusses classified information. ]
no subject
it's going to be what it is. at least he's not the only one with explaining to do.
maybe five minutes later, he rounds the corner to the dining area. looking about as much of a mess as the rest of them, face peppered with healing cuts and set in a neutral mask. ]
Fancy seeing you here.
no subject
except stephen's opener startles a laugh out him. god, what a dad joke. coulson would dig it. ]
You know me. [ well. he eases his weight forward to stand fully, hands slipping into his pockets 'cause they'll give him away otherwise. ] Can't get enough of the dried insects.
[ but they're in motion, burning his nervous energy on their way out of the building. walking was a good shout. ]
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I'm sorry to have been so blunt. But it seemed best to get it out of the way. We don't have a lot of time for beating around the bush.
[ still, he can acknowledge that he did somewhat pull the carpet out from under them ]
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No, you — it was the right call.
[ maybe, he doesn't actually know, but sure. ]
I suppose I should say I'm [ a beat of uncertainty. he glances at stephen. ] an Agent of SHIELD. Afraid I left the badge in the other universe. [ then, lightly. ] And I have drawn up the prints for a jet, so. Aerospace wasn't totally off-base.
[ a joking (*not joking) defense of his lie spaghetti, thanks. ]
no subject
Out of curiosity, is that supposed to be top secret information? I'm guessing you got whatever clearance you needed for me, but -
[ but. as the disclosure of surprising information goes, Stephen doesn't actually seem all that surprised.
so what about for the other time you happened to let that slip, and to perhaps the most unreliable of sources? ]
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Chatty bastard. [ more irritated than upset. ] I'll have you know it's protocol to negotiate openly with aliens, and SHIELD has a strong relationship with Asgard. [ a beat. ] With most Asgardians.
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Anyway, SHIELD. Is that just you, or all of your university friends and/or ex-lovers?
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Bloody hell, you're merciless. [ with the questions and the judgment. ] Agent Johnson's with SHIELD. Katelin isn't.
[ and that, at least, he sells, perhaps because it's true. ]
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[ okay, accepted without question. what's the point in lying at this point? ]
Stephen Strange. Ex-neurosurgeon, more recently but still ex-Master of the Mystic Arts and protector of Earth against extra-dimensional threat.
[ nice to properly make your acquaintance. ]
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You had powers before you came here, then?
[ they all have powers now, of course, that Fitz suspects were mined from other individuals. ]
no subject
Yeah, me too. [ re: mystic arts. he's been you, fitz. he won't begrudge the skecticism. ] And yes. I could access interdimensional energy and form it into spells. I could also manipulate dimensions, travel between them freely, and control time.
[ so that's a thing. another thing, one that he hasn't quite understood yet - ] Before?
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Could've used your help a few times.
[ it's meant to be quippy, but he fails to muster the positive energy. ]
I'm sure you've noticed. [ it's a compliment. strange is a clever man, though perhaps he lacks the intimate relationships to explore this topic freely, at present. with bobbi and daisy here, fitz can discuss almost anything. ] I know for a fact that I'm not inhuman or powered. Or I wasn't. I checked. Now — [ he lifts his hands and shrugs his shoulders. ] — I've some kind of spacetime manipulation ability, I reckon.
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Stephen stops in his tracks, prominent frown in his face.
1) a new power, previously unheld?
2) — ]
Spacetime manipulation? Spacetime manipulation how?
[ you can't just I reckon and stop, Fitz. this is - god. ]
no subject
Fitz belatedly stops and backtracks, facing Stephen. He has the decency to look sheepish for slipping in that detail, at least, bring a hand to scratch at his neck. ]
Like, portals — just small ones, though. [ to illustrate, he makes an O with his hand. ] Seems to function like miniature wormholes, with an entry and exit portal, but it's difficult to test.
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